Christmas Eve
by wolfofsummerbreeze
Summary: Ian is slowly slipping into love... and it seems that someone finally gets the message. Pointless fluff. Slash. Ianx? Part 0 of 12 Christmas Stories.


"-to the world-"

"-e angels-"

Slam. Jingle.

Confused, Ian looked up from his book at the cacophony of carols created by carousing Christmas enthusiasts and then at the man who was now cleaning a copious amount of cold snow from his captain's hat and casimir dress that were correctly assumed to have been acquired through conscription by said carousing carolers.

Disturbed by that assonance and alliteration Ian closed the book that likely caused it and called out to the other two-legged occupant of his store.

"Brandon, please tell me you're not planning to work the register in a dress."

Pulling the scarf (spirited 2k7) from off his neck Brandon grinned at his employer. "You ruin all my fun." Putting that hat he had taken of back on to cover his red-brown hair his grin melted from slightly insane to amused. "I have a plain green t-shirt and candy cane arm socks in the back, don't worry." He pulled off his boots, struggling with the thick socks sticking to them and attempted to look at Ian at the same time. Ian didn't bother to go help him. "What are you doing here anyway? It's Rick's shift. Don't tell me he skipped out on you to-"

"No. I let him go early." Ian shifted against the countertop, his deep green turtleneck riding up his hip slightly. "It's been a slow day anyway. Thought he should spend his Christmas Eve with the girl he finally got to go out with him."

"Persistent." Brandon rolled his eyes at wherever his co-worker presently was. "And you're too nice. Don't even try to tell me to go home early." He slipped his slippers on and jogged to the back room, his dress bobbing in a way that made Ian struggle not to laugh. "Besides," he half shouted from the backroom, muffled by fabric, "There's no one for me to go home too!" He came out a second later still holding the arm socks but with a normal green tee on. "Not even a cat." He reached out and scratched a sleeping Rufus behind the ears.

Ian had always liked Brandon for that. After the whole vampire fiasco his first concern had been Rufus and his shop. He had raced in and almost got his head chopped off by Brandon with a chainsaw, who had gone back to cleaning bloodstains after Rufus had intervened. Brandon had apparently helped Rufus when he had been coming back from fishing. Brandon had been in the area attempting to do the same when he had been attacked by vampires and proceeded to run. When he stumbled upon Rufus he had immediately jumped into action with a single minded determination for saving Ian's feline compatriot.

Apparently wooden fishing rods worked as bow staffs and stakes. The chainsaw had come from a vampire who had the bad fortune of incurring Brandon's apparently considerable wrath. Rufus and his new companion proceeded to stock up on fish and barricade themselves in Ian's shop with the front-most area free of any merchandise lest it become blood encrusted.

From there it had been a simple act of asking if Rufus' protector wanted to work at a job where he could see him every day and bam, new favorite employee.

Not that he'd tell Brandon that. No, no, he'd certainly never tell that to Brandon who was too funny, too interesting, too caring, and sometimes too wild. Brandon, who he'd seen in a dress at least twice before. Brandon, who unwittingly made it worthwhile to get up and out of bed with just his smile or his hot mint-chocolate or his apple-cheese crepes. Besides, he couldn't play favorites.

Not with the people who worked for him.

"You have friends you can hang out with." Ian reminded him.

Brandon gave him a weird look. "Aaaaaaand what are you?" Before Ian could reply he beat him to it. "A friend." Brandon grinned and rolled his eyes as if to say 'duh'. Ian couldn't keep the smile from his face. "Besides, it's what? 10 to 5? Not only are you going to need me at 5 but all my friends are going caroling from 5-9 with a ten minute break every hour. That happens to be something I have no reason to do as I already have the stuff I can get from it and I abhor the cold too much to have a fun time out there even if it IS singing."

Ian blinked. "Why do I need you at 5? And since when did you work until 9?"

Brandon grinned. "Christmas event flights from Durem to Aekea end at 5. I switched with Roxy as she needed to buy last minute Christmas presents just like all the people who are undoubtedly going to be racing into this store very soon." He shot a surprised Ian a laughingly sly glance. "Oh yeah, we're getting slammed. I'm going to pull out the second register so that when I say 'I told you so' you won't have to frantically dig around in storage because you completely forgot where you put it in your panic."

Ian let his forehead fall against the counter. He then repeated it a couple times. He hated getting slammed.

Rufus rubbed up against him and he near-immediately cheered up. He did have Rufus… and Brandon too. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad…

"Well, hmm… Now this is interesting." Rufus and he turned towards Brandon who placed the second register down, the older one that only seemed to work for Brandon when he whispered sweet nothings or lewd suggestions to it. On top of said register was a smaller package that was wrapped with fish decorated paper. "I wonder who this is for." He shot a sly glance toward an enraptured Rufus. Ian, catching on smiled as wide as he dared, trying to thank this man with his eyes. Considering Brandon's embarrassed flush, it worked.

Hours later when they were both dead on their feet and still high off carols and shopping excitement Ian finally got around to asking. "Where in the blazes did you find a fish-shaped cat-sized cash register?"

Brandon, who was slumped over the counter and was receiving a back massage from the resident cat, tiled his head toward him and smiled with as much energy as he could muster—or at least that's what it looked like.

"Custom made, that's all you're getting from me. All you'll be getting until tomorrow that is. Still have a present for you somewhere."

Somewhere meaning at his house probably… and suddenly Ian thought of Brandon's house, empty of anyone else and a long walk away through the snow. He swallowed, spontaneously nervous. "Hey, it's a long way to your house and I know you walked here… so why don't you stay here for Christmas Eve?"

Brandon opened one eye and shot him a look that he'd seen from most cats who were not Rufus.

"You have one bed and a tiny couch… which you would not let me sleep on even though I come up to your chin." Ian felt oddly disappointed but covered it by scratching the back of his head. "So I'm warning you, I either kick in my sleep or I cuddle, because I'm not kicking you out of your bed on Christmas Eve."

"Ah." Was about the only thing Ian could get out while struggling with a red face. He was glad Brandon had closed his eyes again. "That's no problem." He finally forced out.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" Brandon said, tugging at the drawstring of one of Ian's sleep pants. Ian took a moment to admire how adorable Brandon looked in his oversized shirt and nodded.

"Thanks," He said quietly, stepping forward, towards Ian, towards the bed, shyly raising his head. "I… uh…" He bit his lip as he looked up at Ian and Ian thought that such an expression should be illegal.

Then slowly, brushing the black hair out of grey eyes, he stood on tiptoe and kissed Ian. It was slow and warm and Ian felt unbelievably awkward until some part of his brain still operable managed to move one of his hands to Brandon's hips and the other to the back of his head so that, when he pulled away at the lack of response, Ian could pull him back, pull him deeper.

When they pulled away Brandon's eyes were drooping and Ian knew he wasn't far behind.

"Just sleep?" He asked, and Brandon rewarded him with the warmest smile yet.

"Just sleep."

And in the morning they woke up to three stockings where three had only been two.


End file.
